


The World Spins Madly On

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-25
Updated: 2007-08-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12402156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Set a few years after the Second War. The entire Wizarding World has suffered mass casualties during the War; suffered life-changing experiences, mostly for the worst. And yet, the world spins madly on…





	1. We May Have Won, But Everyone Has Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

  
Author's notes: 1  


* * *

**The World Spins Madly On**

**_Summary:_ ** _Set a few years after the Second War. The entire Wizarding World has suffered mass casualties during the War; suffered life-changing experiences, mostly for the worst. And yet, the world spins madly on…_

**A/N:** I’ve lost my muse for _I Think I’ve Lost My Mind._ It’s around here somewhere, but my brain has been so messy, it’s a wonder if I can find anything. But another muse came out of nowhere and asked if I could write for him, so I said “why not?” Pretty awful, huh? This is going to be a bit of a depressing fic; a bit out of my comfort zone, since I’m so into nice and fluffy fics. But I should experiment. Anyway, here goes!

 

**_Prologue:_ ** _We May Have Won, But Everyone Has Lost_

_Three Years Ago…_

It’s far too sunny for a day like today. Far too many birds singing in the crisp breeze. Far too many people around the world smiling at the sun; breaking the three solid weeks of rain and storms.

That’s the way it should’ve stayed, Ginny ponders. Maybe then they wouldn’t have to be out in this lovely weather, in itchy black suits and dresses equipped with pantyhose; sweating and shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for the Minister to just _stop talking_ and let them forget about this awful day, this awful year.

Ginny sticks a finger in her collar and tries to stretch it farther than it would give, tries to get a single gulp of fresh air. For she thinks she hasn’t breathed properly since it happened. Since she, along with her family, along with Ron –

_Oh, Ron._

Ginny lifts her chin up and scans the intimate crowd of people, all wearing the same bleak color, all dabbing at their eyes and shaking their heads. Ron is nowhere in sight. Ginny should’ve known.

She then looks at the person sitting next to her; the person that’s been through so much. The one that saved the world, but with dire consequences. The one who thinks everything is his fault and he’s _so sick of it._

_Well,_ thinks Ginny dryly, _it’s over now. Nothing to do now but lick our wounds and move on._

Easier said than done.

She reaches for his hand, but he pulls back stiffly. Trying to understand, she pulls back as well, not knowing that that single gesture showed that he is pulling back more than his hand.

And for the first time since he was eleven, he’s crawling back into his shell, for it’s easier to forget in his shell. Easier to just… not be _here._

Finally, _finally_ the Minister stops talking, and no one else goes up to the front to speak their feelings, and Ginny is grateful. She needs to find Ron.

Then the body bursts into flames, and Ginny doesn’t even flinch. She has been to far too many of these things to even notice the flames licking the body and encasing it in a white tomb, for that’s what she has to call it now: _the body._

People slowly stand up around her, but the boy – no, the man – that was sitting next to her shoots up, his back straight, and disappears into the small forest nearby; no doubt to Dissapparate and forget this day, this world.

Ginny, too, stands up, dodges her family who were engulfing each other in hugs and jagged sobs, and follows the man into the forest to Dissapparate. She knows where Ron is.

_____________________________

Ginny pushes open the front door with her fingertips, slowly entering and looking around the empty house. “Ron?” she calls out.

Silence.

“It’s Ginny. I know you’re here so you might as well just come out.”

Again, silence.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she mumbles, flicking on the nearest light switch. Nothing. Grunting, Ginny pulls her wand and mutters a charm.

_“Lumos!”_  She whispers. Slowly she steps deeper into the house, a rather thick layer of dust cushioning her steps. She shines the light across the front room, where there are drabby pieces of furniture filled with holes and also covered in dust. Ginny suspects no one has been here in years.

_A perfect fix-‘n’-up house_ , she thinks sadly.

When she reaches the stairs, she notices a rather large set of footprints leading to the second story. Sighing, she sets to follow.

Reaching the hallway, she stops to listen for any sounds. None. Then – 

“Ow! Bloody hell…”

Last room on the left, where there is light seeping through the crack underneath the door. _“Nox.”_ Ginny whispers, and heads to Ron.

“Ron?” Ginny twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, when suddenly it snaps shut, startling Ginny to let go.

“Sod off!” a voice yells, then sounds: liquid sloshing in a glass bottle; said bottle thunking back down on the ground; a soft hiss.

“Ron, it’s Ginny,” she says softly.

Silence. Then – “Go ‘way.”

“No, I’m not leaving you here. If you won’t let me in, then I’ll stay out here in the hall.”

Silence. A few moments pass, then –

“Oh, Ron! Let me in! I feel like an idiot talking to a bleeding door –“

The door swings open, and there’s Ron, looking bloody awful. His hair is sticking up in odd places, sadly reminding Ginny of another. His old Chudley Cannons shirt has stains of alcohol and sick all over. There’s dark circles under his eyes, looking like he hasn’t slept since –

 “Ron,” Ginny breathes sadly. She reaches toward him but he jerks back.

“Why are you here?” he says sharply. He takes another swig of what Ginny recognizes as Firewhiskey. Ginny snatches it from his grasp, making Ron roar with anger.

“Ginny! What the fu –“

She then throws it across the room, where it smashes against the wall and the millions of glass shards and Firewhiskey drops sink to the ground.

“Get out. Get out, now! Get out of my house!” Ron roars.

“Why don’t you sober up, clean up and get to the Burrow. Now.” Ginny seethes.

“Who the bloody hell made _you_ the boss –“

“At this rate, I’m going to be the only one that gives a damn about you!”

Ron’s mouth clamps shut, but his eyes are still blazing. Then his shoulders sag, giving up.

“I don’t care anymore, Gin. I don’t –“

“Don’t!” Ginny now had tears in her eyes. “Don’t give up! Because if you give up then everyone else will! We can’t give up! It’s over, Ron. Over! All that’s left is –“

“Burying the dead?” Ron says, almost with a mocking tone in his voice, his mouth now turned into a sneer.

Ginny exhales sharply. “Yes.”

“Well, sorry that I’m not so _into that_ as you would want, but I’ve got better things to do than sit and –“

Ginny slaps him. He staggers back, shocked.

“How dare you. How _dare_ you. Why do you get to be the only one that cracks? That gives up? You _can’t_ give up! You’ve never given up! Just because she’s gone –“

“Don’t.” Ron warns, but she doesn’t stop.

“We’ve had to bury five people we knew and loved this week and we still have dozens left! You don’t get to crawl up in a hole and forget that! Especially because Harry’s already done that. But at least,” When Ron turns his head, Ginny grabs his chin and forces him to look at her. “At least he has the decency to go the damn funerals and pay his respects.”

“I’ve gone to –“

“This is the one you should’ve been at!” Ginny is hysterical now. “This is the one where you were needed. God, Ron, I needed my big brother. I needed you there. Harry needed you there.” She pauses.

“Hermione needed you there.”

“Oh!” Ron flings his arms up in the air, his eyes wide in mock-astonishment. “Oh, _Hermione_ needed me there, did she? Did she pull herself out of the tomb and tell you that? Or was it when her body was burning –“

“You son of a bitch,” Ginny cries, then this time, punches him in the jaw. He trips a few steps back, but manages to keep his footing. He doesn’t look surprised. He rubs his jaw, and then gives his sister a crude look. “That the best you got?”

Ginny, not thinking at this point, reels her arm back and aims for his nose. Direct hit. He staggers back into the wall, the glass shards crunching underneath his boots.

“Come on! Hit me, Gin! Really hit me!”

She pulls her fist back but stops. She sees the pain in his eyes and her own well up once more. “Ron –“

“Hit me! Hit me, dammit! _Punch me a good one!_ ”

Ginny lets her fist fall. “No.”

Ron seizes her shoulders and gives her a good shake. “Dammit, Ginny, I need to feel something! I’m numb, Gin. Numb.” His knees crash to the ground, taking Ginny with him. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and he starts to sob uncontrollably, only a few random phrases legible amidst the tears.

“… only had two weeks with her… love her so much… why was she taken… love her… die for her…”

After several minutes, he pulls back and wipes his eyes, looking everywhere but at Ginny.

“You know where we are?” he suddenly asks.

Ginny smiles sadly. “Yes, Her –“ Cough, shaky breath. “Hermione told me. Your fix-‘n’-upper.”

“We were going to live here together. After, you know, the War. She saw it and fell in love. She said they don’t make houses like this anymore, and wanted to fix it up and make it into the perfect house. We’re young, but –“

Ron takes a deep breath and lets out a soft laugh. “But we were in love. We were only together for a couple weeks, but because of the War –“

Ron swallows. Ginny expects him to go on but he doesn’t; he just stares at the door.

“You were together for years, during Hogwarts, Ron, you just didn’t know it yet.” Ginny says.

Ron just looks at her, then smiles sadly. “Yeah, I guess. I was stupid in Hogwarts.”

“So stupid,” Ginny agrees.

“This was going to be the nursery.”

“What?”

He doesn’t answer right away at first, but this time he does go on. “This room. When me and Hermione came in here a while ago, she said that this room would be the nursery. For when we have kids.” Ron starts crying, but pushes through it. “Because it’s right – right across the hall from the room that would be mine and Hermione’s. Would’ve been.” Ron corrects.

He then looks at Ginny, and her heart breaks.

“Why did she leave me?”

Ginny starts to freely cry, then pulls him in her embrace, just like how their Mum would when they would have bad dreams at night.

“She left… So that we could live, Ron.” Ginny’s voice cracks, but she continues. “She was our hero. She was everyone’s hero.”

Ron is crying hard now, so Ginny hugs him tighter and rides the waves of sorrow with him.


	2. Two Years, Eleven Months, One Week, Four Days

_Woke up and wished that I was dead With an aching in my head I lay motionless in bed I thought of you and where you'd gone And let the world spin madly on._

_I let the day go by I always say goodbye I watch the stars from my window sill The whole world is moving and I'm standing still_

**_Chapter One:_ ** _Two Years, Eleven Months, One Week, Four Days._

_Three Years Later…_

It’s far too rainy for a day like today. It’s coming down in sheets and Ginny is getting very annoyed. _Stop, stop!_ She screams in her head, but to no avail; the rain doesn’t seem to want to let up.

That’s simply unacceptable.

Her parents’ anniversary party will just have to be an indoor event.

_Mum had her heart set on it being outside in the sunshine,_ runs through Ginny’s mind. _Well, too bad. That rain is not letting up._

Ginny turns back into the Burrow to chuck the folded tablecloths that were tucked underneath her arms, and sets back out into the sideways rain to magically tear down the many tables that have already been set up for the party. Ginny flicks her wand effortlessly and the tables obey her unspoken command; they disable themselves and neatly soar back into the magically-enlarged tool shed near the back of the yard. Sighing, she turns around and almost runs face-to-face with her mother.

“Ginny, why are you soaked? Get inside and perform a Drying Charm on yourself this minute!”

“Yes, mum,” she mumbles, kicking off her shoes to trudge up the stairs, leaving her mother alone to quietly curse the foul weather. Let _her_ deal with it. It’s bad enough that the Weasley men left all the work to the women; and of course there are only two of them. Two when there were usually – 

_Two years, eleven months, one week, four days._ Ginny repeats her mantra that she’s picked up that many months ago, on that awful day that she can’t stop forgetting. His eyes, her poor brother’s eyes…

Finally making it to her room, Ginny enters and slams the door shut, shrugging off her robes and jumper. Not even alone for two minutes and she hears a knock on the door.

“Ginny? Giiinnyyy…”

“Bugger off, George, I’m busy.”

“Oy! I’m shocked and hurt that after twenty-one years as being my favorite sister, you _still_ can’t get us straight.”

She quickly pulls a jumper over her head, punches her arms through and then flings the door open. “What do you want, George?”

“Like I said before –“

“That kind of shit worked on me when I was thirteen, not anymore.”

The smile melts off of George’s face and is replaced by a rather stern expression; too stern for the Weasley twin. “Which, lovely sister, wasn’t that long ago.”

Ginny’s shoulders sag and she shakes her head. “Anything that happened before the War was a long time ago, George,” she says. “Another life.”

George’s jaw clenches, not liking the subject of the conversation. He steers away. “Mum wants to postpone the anniversary party.”

“What? Why?”

“The weather, for one,” he gestures wildly toward the small window in Ginny’s room. “For another, she knows her family’s not in it. Sure, thirty-fifth anniversary’s big, but there’s always fortieth.”

“How will she know if we’ll have our hearts in it five years from now?” Ginny shoots at George, who shrugs. “I know it’s been hard for us; our family will never be the same, after Charlie still being in a coma, Ron disappearing, and Percy –“ Ginny cuts off at George’s glare. “Sorry,” she whispers.

“It’s what she wants, Gin. Let it be.”

“No, George, what she wants is her whole family here with her!” Ginny starts tearing up. “Dammit…” She turns away and wipes her eyes on her jumper sleeve. George cocks his head.

“That will never happen, will it?” George says with steel in his voice. He turns on his heel and heads up the stairs to his room.

Ginny shuts the door again, the tears flowing freely once more.

_Two years, eleven months, one week, and four days. It’s been that long and it still cuts like it happened yesterday._

She grabs the box of tissues off her desk, wipes her eyes clean and blows her nose. She checks her face in the mirror and, deeming herself acceptable, heads out the door.

______________________________

A knock at the door was a welcoming distraction from having to write letters of cancellation to everyone who was invited to the anniversary party. Leaving her mother alone to finish up, Ginny throws the quill down and heads off to answer it.

“Who is it?” she barks harshly, and then remembers herself; the War is over. Old habits.

“It’s Har –“ She doesn’t let him finish, and flings the door open, revealing Harry Potter with a small package clasped in his hands. His hair is wet from the rain, causing it to stick up even more. He has no greeting, he just stares at Ginny. It makes her nervous.

“Come in,” she says, stepping off to the side to let him pass. He does.

“Sorry we didn’t get an owl to you faster, but the party’s been cancelled,” Ginny says, watching Harry pull off his robes and shake the excess water off. She shuts the door. “Mum’s decided to not have it. At least not now.” She tilts her mouth sadly. Harry nods.

“Ah, I see.” Nothing else.

“I’ve missed you,” Ginny blurts.

He just looks at her with those eyes. She shifts slightly.

“I mean – we’ve all missed you. The family. We miss you coming over just to say hello.”

“Really.” It wasn’t a question. Naïve people ask questions. Harry doesn’t ask them. Not anymore.

“Really,” she echoes. “Mum loves fattening you up.” She lets out a reluctant laugh. Harry doesn’t. Ginny sighs.

“You should go.”

“Okay.”

“I mean, if all you’re going to do is just stand there and get in the way, not saying a word, there’s no need for you here.” She says this with bitterness now. _If he isn’t going to at least try,_ Ginny seethes, _then why should I?_

Ginny thinks she sees something flicker in his eyes – anger? – but it disappears and there’s nothing there again. His once emerald green eyes are cold, greyer than the beautiful green Ginny remembers so well. _His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad…_

“I’ll go, then,” he says stiffly. He shoves the package into her hands and grabs for his robes, but Ginny stops him. “Wait.”

He turns.

“Come in for a cup of tea. If not for me, then for mum.” It was a last-minute attempt, for she didn’t want Harry to leave.

He stares at her for several moments, making her shift on her feet once again.

Then she sees something that shocks her; his mouth tilts into what can only be described as a half-smile. “Okay.”


	3. The Boy Who Left

**The World Spins Madly On**

**_Chapter Two:_ ** _The Boy Who Left_

“Harry, dear, you _must_ try some of this chocolate cake. It was intended for the party, but –“ Mrs. Weasley stops. “Well…”

Harry takes another long sip of tea, as if deciding whether or not to have a slice. This little act angered Ginny for some reason, so she decides for him. “Of course he’d love a piece, mother, and I’d love one too.” She beams at her mother, and she returns the smile.

“Well then, I’ll go get those for you.” Mrs. Weasley abruptly rises from her chair and heads into the kitchen. Harry doesn’t speak until she’s out of earshot, then he rounds on Ginny. “I really should be going, Ginny,” he says through clenched teeth.

“No, you _really_ shouldn’t. You _really_ should stay here and have a piece of cake.”

Harry roughly places the teacup on the saucer, making a loud _clank!_ “Look Ginny, I know you’re upset that I haven’t been coming around lately, but what do you want me to do? Pretend that everything’s okay? That practically half of your family isn’t dead or in a coma or running around doing God-knows-what –“

“I want you to at least _act_ like everything’s _going_ to be okay. That Charlie _will_ wake up, that Ron _will_ come back. That’s what we need. We need to feel normal now. Even though it’s been three years, we still don’t feel like it.” Ginny shoots back, stunning Harry into silence. His head droops slightly and he lets out a small sigh.

“I can’t do that, Ginny. I just can’t. It’s not okay.”

“I know it’s not okay, but it will be.”

“How do you know?”

Ginny stares into Harry’s sad green eyes. Oh, his eyes. “Because it has to be. I have to believe that life will get better than this. That it _is_ better than this. It’s too much effort to just lock yourself away in a cold, dark room and hope that the world will leave you alone. I’ve tried that before.”

Harry shakes his head.

“Maybe you should stop doing it as well.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is. It _is_ that simple!” Ginny cries, emotion coating her words. “Just – just stay here for a while. Stop hiding away in that awful flat of yours. Stay here and interact with people, with us. Mum would love you have you, of course. The twins would as well. They’ve been inventing some new candies that they’d love the try on someone, but I’d suggest you don’t.” Harry’s mouth tips slightly. “You don’t have to do anything, just… _be_.” Ginny wipes her eyes with her thumb. “Be here, with us.”

“Ginny, I –“

“Here you go!” Mrs. Weasley places a rather large piece of cake in front of Harry and the same for Ginny. “Now eat up, you two. You’re both as skinny as a pole! Let me fill that up for you, Harry.” She grabs Harry’s empty teacup and heads back into the kitchen to fill it.

“Just think about it, all right?” Ginny asks, shoveling a large forkful of cake in her mouth.

No answer.

“Harry,” Ginny pleads. “Please think about it? It’s awful to know that you’re always alone in that flat of yours.”

Once again, something flickers in Harry’s eyes, but is immediately replaced again with his black stare. Ginny cocks her head.

“I’ll think about it,” Harry says finally. Ginny beams and eats more of her cake.

After a short while, Harry announces to Mrs. Weasley that he should be heading off. Mrs. Weasley shoves a large plate full of cake into his hands. “Here you are, dear. Who knows if you have any food at that God-forsaken flat of yours.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley.”

She gives him one final hug before placing a sloppy kiss on both his cheeks. Harry then turns to Ginny.

“Goodbye, Ginny.”

“Yeah,” Ginny opens the front door, “see you later,” she corrects. It’s not goodbye, it’s never goodbye.

All of a sudden Mrs. Weasley lets out a loud scream, making both Harry and Ginny jump with fright. Her hands fly to her mouth; her eyes as wide as saucers, staring out the door. 

“Mum! What the bloody –“ The twins, Fred and George race down the stairs, but stop short when they too look out the front door. Harry and Ginny do the same.

Harry drops the plate of cake.

There, standing on the front doorstep, shivering slightly and drenched from the downpour, is Ron Weasley. 


End file.
